


Blood in the Stars

by thoseindarkness



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Crack Crossover, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dirty Talk, F/M, Light Angst, Online Dating, Sexting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 07:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19057861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoseindarkness/pseuds/thoseindarkness
Summary: In an alt Star Wars/Game of Thrones universe Ben Solo signs up for a matchmaking service. He's paired with an incredible woman who turns his head, but at their first meeting he discovers he knows her and she knows him.





	Blood in the Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poppi_Willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppi_Willow/gifts).



> **TRIGGER WARNING**  
>  I don't add triggers in the tags for things that aren't major elements to the story. For those of you unfamiliar with GoT Dany loses a baby. That is mentioned very briefly (as briefly as it is here) in the second to last scene. I don't linger on the subject, but in context with the scene it might hit a bit harder. If you don't want to deal with it skip the section entitled "EIGHT YEARS AGO".
> 
> End TRIGGER WARNING
> 
> This story – as all my fastest turnarounds are – was a response to an open-ended prompt on Twitter from [Poppi_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppi_Willow/pseuds/Poppi%20Willow). It took only a few minutes for the idea to ruminate into the bones of a story. 
> 
> To the prompter, I apologize, I don't know much about sugaring or the culture. I did a tiny bit of research and came to this idea. Also, this has turned out to be the sexting fic I didn't know I wanted to write… which was fun to discover as I knew walking in where this chapter was _supposed_ to end, but couldn't figure out how to get the porn in before that. Then it happened. I still owe you a bending of the knee, like so much in this story… it's coming. ;)
> 
> Final note, I don't really do WIPs. I normally write the whole thing out before posting, but I figured what the hell? It's gone out without beta and I'll write the next one when I write the next one. Wish me luck as I venture into this brave new world of posting as I go. Don't hate me if I take too long between updates. I'll hate myself enough for both of us.

**[PRESENT DAY]**

Ben checked his watch again. It was nearly time to go. Polite, if unenthusiastic, applause filled the air, followed by the sounds of scraping chairs, rustling skirts, and the self-obsessed muttering of the galactic elite. A scent assailed his senses that could only be the cloying perfume the Tyrell's wore.

Before he could slink away, Margaery Tyrell dropped into the seat next to him with her perfectly practiced smile. She was a vision in teal and gold, her neckline plunging so deep he could almost count the hairs on her inner thigh. She was inordinately beautiful and equally false. Ben smiled at her anyway.

"That was exquisite, don't you think?" Margery asked, fluttering her false eyelashes.

"I wasn't listening," Ben admitted.

She giggled. "No one was _really_ listening." She leaned into him conspiratorially, whispering, "But we must be _seen_ to be listening?" Her hand brushed his knee.

He blinked down at the hand, then slowly up at her. "How's your brother doing? I heard he made a new friend on Cantonica."

Expert though she was at politics, Ben had been doing it longer. He caught the subtle twitch under her left eye before she threw her head back and laughed. "Oh you know Loras, everyone loves him. He lights up the room."

"He certainly does. You could say he sets it ablaze." Ben's mobile trilled.

The tech was a recent invention by MicroData Technologies. An synthesis of their Pocket Secretary and Personal Datapad Assist lines that was smaller and included built in two ways coms. They were calling it the Personal Mobile Datacenter. It was still rare, and ludicrously expensive but Ben could no longer imagine his life without it.

He allowed himself a smirk as he checked the message. It was time.

Margery smiled coldly at him. "Leaving so soon?"

"Yes," he replied, striding away before she could attempt another round of banter.

Ben was acutely aware of the eyes on him as he eased his way through the sea of tuxedos and sequin gowns. The orchestra on stage was busy packing their instruments, adding to the din. Glasses clinked. Painted nails grazed up black coat sleeves. Heels clacked on Italian tiles. Expensive perfumes and colognes made the air around him suffocating. His mobile trilled in his coat pocket.

 _What the hell am I doing?_ he thought.

* * *

**[THREE WEEKS AGO]**

"I assure you, our client list is very exclusive and our girls are exceptionally discreet."

Bazine's smile called to mind a bloody dagger. Her charcoal rimmed eyes skated up Ben's chest, lingering on his lips a moment before reaching his face. She slithered across the room, grey dress curling across the floor like smoke. He shouldn't have come. The whole thing was a mistake.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"You're nervous," she mewled in her heavy Chaaktil accent. She offered him a flute of teal liquid that bubbled like champagne. There was no way it was real Toniray as the last bottles on the planet were tucked safely in his mother's vaults on Chandrila. "It's understandable. Your privacy is our highest concern, your highness. No one will know you were here. None of our girls will ever mention it. They're all thoroughly vetted. You may have even met a few already and not realized it."

Ben swirled the spirit in his glass sending a drop of condensation trickling down the stem lap at his fingers. He wasn't nervous. He was mortified. He should never have listened to Monthan. What the hell would a Shu-Torun prince know about meeting women?

"You're still uncertain." Bazine sighed artfully.

Everything about her was expertly crafted to make him feel calm, welcome and in the right company. From the reproductions of famous paintings, to the high end furniture, to the jasmine oil warming on Bazine's glass desk. None of it made him feel any more at ease than he had been walking through the door.

"If I may be so bold, your highness?"

He nodded.

"Give us one week. You'll have your first few matches in the next forty-eight hours. Peruse them, at your leisure and see if any pique your interest. You're under no obligation to chat with any of these women. If none catch your interest we'll send your more. At the end of the week, if you're still not even the tiniest bit curious about any of them, we'll give you a full refund. You have my word."

"And a contract that stipulates as much."

She nodded, "And that as well."

 _Fuck it,_ he thought. _It's not like I'm getting anywhere on my own._ "Fine. One week."

Bazine smiled her bladed smile. "We're honored, your highness. We look forward to making your wildest dreams come true."

Ben snorted. That was unlikely.

* * *

**[PRESENT DAY]**

"Your highness," the doorman said as Ben passed into the warm night air.

Donre's capital was especially muggy late in the summers, sending a trickle of sweat down Ben's spine. He told himself it wasn't nerves that were making him sweat. He was only leaving one of the most high profile events of the season to meet a strange woman for dinner in one of the more rapidly growing power centers of the galaxy. It was his own damn fault, of course. He thought it would be a good excuse to get away from the vacuous elite, never once considering that they would note his absence the moment he made for the door.

He vacillated on the hover pad, he could still turn back. Call the whole thing off. No one would bat an eyelash. One of the few benefits of being royalty was that he could do whatever the hell he wanted and no one would say a thing about it… to his face.

His mobile trilled again in his pocket. He was going to cancel. There was no good reason to do this. It was insane. _Paying_ for companionship never ended well, not when the whole galaxy was watching. Things had already gone too far, there was too much at stake to reveal himself now. Let the liaison die in anonymity and leave it at that. So far they'd only communicated through a private channel, so highly secured that not even the company who connected them was monitoring it. It protected the anonymity of clients prior to meeting. They even used false names with the service.

Fishing his mobile out of his pocket he began to formulate an appropriate response. When he opened the application he found Qi'ra had sent him four new messages, the last was an image.

> **Qi'ra:** Our table was ready so they sat me early.  
>  **Qi'ra:** They have the tartare. I've ordered it for us, extra spicy. ;)  
>  **Qi'ra:** _The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun, and her kisses were warmer than spring. But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel, and its kiss was a terrible thing._

The image was of pale fingers curling around a bottle Dornish Red, aptly named The Dornishman's Wife after the Westerosi song. Ben had recently admitted to Qi'ra having never tried it. He followed the curve of her fingers, down to her thin wrist and the hint of a sheer fabric the color of summer skies pooling under her arm. A rose gold circlet looped around her arm like a serpent, slithering off edge of the image.

He remembered then why he'd agreed to meet her. She was brilliant. Interested in literature, poetry, and politics while retaining a wicked sense of humor. She also had an uncanny knack for knowing exactly how to put him at ease every time he was ready to back out.

> **Qi'ra:** Hurry, Kylo.

"Your highness?"

Ben blinked up, realizing that his transport was waiting for him, the valet waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp. With a sigh, he ducked into the back seat and typed a response.

> **Kylo:** I'm on my way.

* * *

**[TWO WEEKS AGO]**

Ben's mobile vibrated on the bar. His date for the evening, an lemon skinned Thradian goddess by the name of Nadea, glanced at the device.

"I won't be offended," she smiled warmly.

"It's nothing," he replied, taking her hand. "Probably work, committee meetings."

"You should take it then," Nadea sighed.

Everything about this woman was amazing, save her overzealousness in the political arena. They'd had a few good conversations, better than Ben imagined possible with a total stranger. It was enough to merit a meeting, but so far they'd found little to discuss outside of politics. Normally he wouldn't mind, but her opinions were naïve at best and downright backwards at worst. Despite her sweet smile and incredible beauty, Ben was starting to get the feeling his first date with the service was a bust. He'd have to adjust his profile so this wouldn't happen again.

"Actually, I'm going to take a quick look. I'll be just a second." He excused himself, heading for the privacy of the men's room.

As he shouldered open the door he felt only the tiniest pang of guilt about opening the message from Qi'ra. She'd been messaging him all night. They'd only been matched the day before and so far he liked everything about her.

> **Qi'ra:** The Chandrilan's are trying to push another disarmament bill through the Senate.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Mothma has to know this isn't a fight she can win.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Oh gods, Kylo. Ransolm Casterfo orchestrated a walk-out in the middle of her speech.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Even the Fray's walked out. They're fucking cowards.

He chuckled. Ben knew that bill would die on the vine. Old friends or not, his mother was never going to agree to total demilitarization. Even without a planet or crown, Leia Organa was still a political powerhouse on the galactic stage, a frontrunner for First Senator.

> **Kylo:** I knew that was coming.

Ben adjusted his collar in the mirror and sighed. _What the hell am I doing? There's a nice woman waiting for me outside and I'm chatting with someone else. This isn't me._ He reached for the mobile, intent on telling her he was busy and couldn't talk when her response came in.

> **Qi'ra:** Of course you did. Anyone who's read _Fire & Blood _and the _Dha Werda Verda_ has to be a brilliant man.

Ben frowned.

> **Kylo:** How did you know?

He waited as the tiny dots popped up on his screen indicating she was typing a response.

> **Qi'ra:** Your profile said you'd read _Fire & Blood_, which is a plus in my book. Few have.  
>  **Qi'ra:** You quoted the _Dha Werda Verda_ yesterday.

He laughed, a single clipped outburst. It was automatic to quote his favorite texts assuming no one had the slightest idea what the hell he was talking about. He hadn't realized she'd caught the reference.

> **Kylo:** I'm impressed.

Her response was immediate.

> **Qi'ra:** Don't be. Being well educated is a minimum requirement. ;)

He raised an eyebrow at that, typing furiously when he remembered there was still someone waiting for him outside. Against every instinct his fingers deleted the message and replaced it with four simple words.

> **Kylo:** I'm on a date.

To clarify, he added.

> **Kylo:** I have to go.

When no response was imminent, he tucked his mobile back into his pocket, ran his fingers through his hair and noticed the idiotic smile on his face. He was just about to walk out into the bar when his pocket vibrated.

 _Don't look. Don't do it. Just keep walking._ His traitorous hand dipped into his pocket, the smile on his face widening as he read the message.

> **Qi'ra:** That's unfortunate. I was really enjoying our chat. Message me in a few hours.

Ben's mind was on auto-pilot, fingers moving over the virtual keys before he could stop himself.

> **Kylo:** Who says I'll be free in a few hours?
> 
> **Qi'ra:** I can read, particularly time stamps. Talk to you soon.

He shook his head, knowing how mortified his mother would be that he'd left that poor girl alone out there for fifteen minutes.

* * *

**[PRESENT DAY]**

> **Qi'ra:** You haven't changed your mind have you?

Ben chuckled.

> **Kylo:** Traffic on the expressway. I'm a few minutes away.

While he waited, he scrolled through their message history. They'd chatted every day from the first match. For security reasons, the application only stored two hundred messages at a time and they'd been at it for weeks. Thankfully, the message she'd sent a few days before was still there. Pale legs stretched out against copper sand, seafoam kissing the edges of her feet. Beyond that the ocean stretched out to blur with a blood red sunset. The caption read:

> **Qi'ra:** My favorite color.

Another message came in and the window scrolled to the bottom automatically.

> **Qi'ra:** You're not chatting up another girl are you?

It hit him then he hadn't talked with anyone else for over a week. Should he tell her that? He was already putting all his eggs in one basket, but did _she_ need to know.

The only reason they hadn't met sooner was a matter of logistics. Qi'ra traveled as much as Kylo did. He'd proposed a meeting after their first week. As soon as he returned to Coruscant, which was technically where they were both based. She was leaving for the Martin Spiral the day before his return, business in Meereen. Their meeting on Dorne was a happy accident. He was attending the arms summit, she was just leaving the Summer Isles for home.

The response came to him quickly.

> **Kylo:** _Tubī daor._

There was a long pause before the dots appeared. Then they disappeared. They reappeared. They disappeared. Ben glanced out the transparisteel viewport. The capital was rapidly diminishing as they moved toward the Shadow City to the west, the cluster of life and light turning into tiny dots on the dark horizon, twinkling like stars in the night. He'd be there soon enough, but his heart was still racing waiting for her reply. The mobile vibrated in his hand.

> **Qi'ra:** You're in so much trouble.

His heart sank.

> **Kylo:** Why? What'd I do?

The dots played their game again, disappearing and reappearing several times. He could see the towering restaurant up ahead. The message popped up.

> **Qi'ra:** So far? Everything right.

Ben smiled.

* * *

**[ONE WEEK AGO]**

Ben tossed the book onto the bed next to him. The wonder of the peoples in the Martin Spryly was their fascination with paper books. They were an anomaly everywhere else the galaxy but Ben had always loved the tactile sensation of paper and parchment. It was the smell of fresh ink, the sound of crinkling pages, the feel of them under his thumbs. He wasn't sure how he'd made it to thirty without reading The Glory of Volantis. It was an absolutely amazing story. A fictional telling of the true tale of Tommen II's fateful journey to Valyria in search of wealth and glory. He snatched it back up, taking a picture of it to send to Qi'ra.

> **Kylo:** I loved it.

Several minutes later she responded.

> **Qi'ra:** Why'd you read it on basic, though? It's better in Valyrian.  
>  **Qi'ra:** The language is so much more musical than the common tongue.  
>  **Qi'ra:** I can teach you Valyrian if you'd like. ;)

Interesting. That was the third language Qi'ra had admitted to knowing.

> **Kylo:** High Valyrian or low? How many languages do you know?
> 
> **Qi'ra:** A few.  
>  **Qi'ra:** And I can teach you either. I know a few things about the gutter.

Ben's face hurt from all the smiling he did when he chatted with this woman. A tiny part of him was terrified she wouldn't live up to the image he'd built up of her in his head. Not that he'd imagined what she looked like, but her presence in his mind was huge. He felt like a teenager all the time, flustered and perverted.

> **Qi'ra:** Gods, I just keep staring at your hands. They're huge…  
>  **Qi'ra:** Is that the new Breitling?

Ben laughed.

> **Kylo:** It is.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** A lover of old fashioned timepieces and paper texts. You are a wonder.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Is it even for sale yet?
> 
> **Kylo:** It isn't.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Your ludicrous wealth is showing.
> 
> **Kylo:** I thought that was the point of this service?
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Perhaps for some.  
>  **Qi'ra:** I think I like your ludicrously large hands better. ;)  
>  **Qi'ra:** Tell me, Kylo, are you good with your hands?

He sat up in bed, reading and re-reading her last message. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't manage to come up with a clever response. Everything sounded stupid in his head. This amazing woman he'd spent the last week chatting with was actually flirting with him. Not just witty repartee, she wanted to know what he could do with his hands.

_Fuck._

> **Qi'ra:** Did I scare you off?

Ben fumbled with his mobile, fingers racing to get his response out.

> **Kylo:** Not at all.  
>  **Kylo:** I'm not sure I should admit this, but you caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting that.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Let's start simple. Yes or no?
> 
> **Kylo:** That seems like a loaded question for just a yes or no response.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Then how about this, I'm good with my mouth.

A shiver ran through Ben, his dick jumping in his cotton house pants at the thought.

> **Qi'ra:** Now tell me more about your hands, Kylo.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Tell me where you'd put them.

A thought occurred to him. He knew how to play this game.

> **Kylo:** You've seen my hands, now. You have something to imagine.  
>  **Kylo:** I haven't seen your mouth. That hardly seems fair.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** That would spoil the fun. Tell me where you'd put your hands and I might show you where they're going.

Oh this was going nowhere good and it was going there fast. He fell back onto his bed, imagining touching this unknown woman for the first time. The answer was obvious.

> **Kylo:** On your hips, to pull you closer.

Ben waited as the seconds ticked agonizingly by. Seconds turned to a minute, then two, then then dots appeared. He held his breath. The square border of an imaging loading appeared. It resolved. He tapped on it and his dick lurched up to meet him. Pale flesh lay in a bed of silk only a shade rosier than her skin. The picture was of a soft expanse of naked stomach, the pink sheets trailing across her body and disappearing between her legs so that one remained completely bare to him, bent at the knee. He could see the curve of her hip and a temping stretch of thigh.

> **Qi'ra:** There?  
>  **Qi'ra:** Is that what you'd like to touch?

For a moment he was torn. The thigh was right there, practically begging him to explore more, but he was an ass man through and through. Breasts were nice, but nothing in the galaxy beat a good ass and Qi'ra looked like she might be hiding a very nice one. He had to know.

> **Kylo:** I want to reach behind you. To run my hands down your back. To grab your ass.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Do you?
> 
> **Kylo:** Very much.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** What about what I want?

Ben felt his throat tighten. Clumsy hands mashed out a response.

> **Kylo:** What do you want, Qi'ra?  
>  **Kylo:** Tell me.

The dots appeared again.

> **Qi'ra:** I want to run my lips along your collar bone.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Will you let me do that?

"You can do whatever you want," Ben muttered, letting out a long slow breath. He was rock hard now. He'd never seen this woman's face and he wanted to put his dick in it so bad it hurt. This was _exactly_ like being a teenager again. Shaking the hormones away, he sat long enough to get his t-shirt over his head and dropped back into the pillows. The mobile vibrated in his hands.

> **Qi'ra:** No cheating. Just the collar bone. I don't want to see your face… yet.

That gave him pause.

> **Kylo:** Why?
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Part of the fun is the mystery, isn't it?  
>  **Qi'ra:** I'll see all of you soon enough. I just want a taste.

"Seven hells," he breathed.

It took a little work to get a good picture. He got the collar bone, a good bit of his throat, and half the left side of his chest. On the one hand, the bottom edge of his goatee was a complete mess. On the other, he managed to keep his ear out of the picture. Best not to frighten the girl off when things were just getting good. He sent it, praying that in his haste to respond he hadn't revealed anything critical.

To keep his mind off his inevitable embarrassment he wandered back to the picture she'd sent. He imagined his hands running over her stomach and up her sides, letting them trail along her thighs, gripping the back of her knee, sliding her closer. The image was so clear it made him shudder. He reached into his pants and took hold of his cock, stroking it lightly as he imagined his hands on her skin.

> **Qi'ra:** I hope you taste as delicious as you look, Kylo.

His hand tightened, mind now flooding with new images of unknown lips wrapping themselves around him.

> **Kylo:** Please, let me see your lips.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** I thought you wanted to touch my back, Kylo?  
>  **Qi'ra:** Have you changed your mind?
> 
> **Kylo:** Yes.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** I was hoping you'd say that.

The image appeared immediately following her message. She must have taken it while she was waiting for him. His whole body tensed the moment he saw it. She was sucking on her finger, her full lips grazing the edge of her knuckle. Pale blonde hairs on her finger and cheek shone in the warm light and Ben closed his eyes, stroking faster. Imagining her lips on his dick, feeling them slowly take him in.

> **Qi'ra:** Where are your hands now?  
>  **Qi'ra:** I hope they're not on me anymore.

He had to slow down, ease off or he was going to nut and he couldn't bear the thought of not knowing if she would come too.

> **Kylo:** My hands are busy enough. What can I do for you now?
> 
> **Qi'ra:** So very thoughtful of you.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Now that your fingers are all wet, I want you to use them.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Tell me about your hands. Tell me what you'd do with them.

Ben wasn't sure how the hell he was going to pull this off, but fuck it, he wasn't going to try. A vignette swam up in his mind and he knew exactly what to do. At the very least it would buy him a little time.

> **Kylo:** I don't want to use my hands, Qi'ra.

He sat up, back against the headboard adjusting until he got a good angle that didn't include too many belly folds. It was unavoidable in this position, but the hell with it. He adjust the waistband of his pants, moved his dick into good tenting position and took the picture. The message should be clear enough.

> **Kylo:** I'm going to pull you into my lap, will you sit with me?

There was a long pause before he got a response. Maybe it hadn't been clear at all. Then the image came.

> **Qi'ra:** Like this?

She'd done the same, mirror him with her face first against her headboard, a pillow pressed between her legs hiding what lay between them. Just at the top of the image he could see the swell of her breasts. His hardon, which had slowly begun to fade, came raging back to life.

> **Kylo:** That's perfect.  
>  **Kylo:** You're absolutely beautiful, Qi'ra.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Thank you.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Now fuck me.

"Yes, ma'am." He shook his head.

> **Kylo:** No.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** ???
> 
> **Kylo:** Only a taste.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** You're an evil bastard.  
>  **Qi'ra:** I like it.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Tell me what you're going to do to me now that you've got me in this position.

He groaned, taking his cock in his hand again and picturing what he wanted.

> **Kylo:** I'm going to slide you into my lap.  
>  **Kylo:** I want you to feel my dick sliding against you.  
>  **Kylo:** Can you feel me there, Qi'ra?
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Yes.
> 
> **Kylo:** Does it feel good?
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Yes.  
>  **Qi'ra:** While I'm rubbing myself against you. I'm going to kiss your neck.

Ben took a deep breath and held it, letting his mind conjure the sensation of her lips on his neck as he stroked himself, imagining instead that it was her warm cunt against him.

> **Kylo:** I'm running my hands down your back.  
>  **Kylo:** I cup your ass.  
>  **Kylo:** I'm pushing you into me.  
>  **Kylo:** Faster, Qi'ra.

He lost himself in his musings. It was getting harder to focus on typing. He could feel the warmth building in his stomach, the tingling in his toes. It was getting close.

> **Qi'ra:** Hands in your hair.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Moan in your ear.  
>  **Qi'ra:** So close.  
>  **Qi'ra:** Want you inside me.

He nearly came right then, barely clearly headed enough to scratch out a response.

> **Kylo:** K

His imagination took over, mobile discarded he pictured himself pitching her onto her silk sheets, hand sliding up the back of her thigh to the crook of her knee, he entered her, leaning into her soft skin. He could feel her hands in his hair, her whimpering in her ear as he thrust into her, the pitch of her moans rising as she neared orgasm. His dick was pulsing in his hand. In a final, panicked grasp he reached for his mobile.

> **Kylo:** Tell me.
> 
> **Qi'ra:** Almost.

He thought of his hands digging into her sheets. Of the feel of her writhing under him. He wasn't going to make it. His body tightened. The mobile dinged in his hand and his imagination transformed the sound into a final frenzied wail as she came around him and he came inside her.

Ben's body was on fire, chest rising and falling in labored breaths. The mobile trilled again and he reached for it, ignoring the mess in his pants.

> **Qi'ra:** That was glorious. Thank you, Kylo.

There was an image too. Her thumb pressed against her middle and index finger, they were glistening in the low light.

"Fuck."

If it was this good half a galaxy away he couldn't even begin to imagine what she'd be like in the flesh. The tiniest shred of fear whispered in the back of his mind.

_What if you're discovered? What if this all goes wrong? What have you done?_

He shoved the voices down. Even if the whole thing blew up in his face, he was going to enjoy this moment.

* * *

**[PRESENT DAY]**

The King's Table was one of the nicest restaurants in Sunspear, an ancient sept of The Seven repurposed into a modern intergalactic hub of Dornish cuisine. The red and gold décor was accented by the strong scents of pepper and spice as Ben walked through the door.

"Your highness," the maître d' said, waving him toward the stairs away from the main dining room. "If you'll follow me."

Ben followed him up to the higher levels of the towering building and the private dining rooms above. He'd reserved the Tower of Joy room at Qi'ra's request. It had a lovely view of the Red Mountains. His heart was hammering in his chest as he approached, leaving him winded and sweaty.

"Her majesty arrived about half an hour ago, we thought it best to seat her right away."

 _Her majesty?_ Ben thought, but was smart enough not to say.

It wasn't uncommon for him to use fake names when reserving at restaurants or hotels. It was just smarter that way. It had the double benefit of being a name either could give without indicating they had no idea who they were meeting.

_Her majesty? Who the fuck had they paired him up with and why was he paying for a woman who's title was her majesty?_

The old building was red dusty brick and old fashioned wooden doors as was the custom on many of the Martin worlds. They'd modernized slowly, accepting minimal technological advancement in favor of retaining their own culture hallmarks. It still struck Ben as odd when the maître d' reached for the door knob.

The world threatened to spin out of control. The woman of his dreams might be behind that door. A woman he'd already had sex with, after a fashion, but never actually met. And she was a queen? This was getting surreal, but it was far too late to back out now. Ben nodded uncertainly at the waiter and made his way into the room.

The dual banners of house Martel and house Targaryen hung along the far wall, in memory of the allegiance that had once made these two old families the most powerful combined house in the world. Only on Dorne were they bold enough to fly the Targaryen flag when the rest of Westeros had thrown the Targaryen's unceremoniously out of their system.

A green and grey standing screen shielded the dining area from the door so that passers might not sneak a peek as the wait staff made their way through the private chambers.

"Hello!" A sweet voice called, the accent was definitely Westerosi, which Ben had long suspected of the woman.

His hands were shaking, his mouth dry, and he found himself rooted to the spot.

"Kylo?"

He watched through the screen as a petite, shapely woman stood from her spot on the floor. She hesitated at the edge of the screen, waiting until the door clicked shut behind him. When it did, she padded barefoot around the screen smiling brightly. She had the most piercing violet eyes he'd ever seen and he'd seen them before. Her smile slipped a fraction as she took in his face, recognition settling in. A beat later, her smile grew even wider.

"Dany?"

* * *

**[EIGHT YEARS AGO]**

Leia fussed with Ben's tie and she swatted him away. "Not now."

"Honey, it's not straight."

"We're at a funeral, mother. No one give's a damn about my tie."

Leia clicked her tongue, eyeing the line ahead of them. They were waiting to offer their condolences to the bereaved. Normally in situations like this there would be a whole line of people waiting to receive, but there was only one. Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen was now, truly, the last of the dragons. She'd lost her brother two months prior while traveling through the grasslands, her husband a few weeks later, and her unborn son mere hours after that. It was a great burden for anyone to have to bear, Daenerys bore it at only seventeen.

Thousands of people from all over the galaxy had come out to pay their respects. It was a terrible tragedy compounded with the already tragic fall of the Targaryen dynasty. Chased from her home before her birth, living in exile in Essos, marrying a warlord she barely knew but by all accounts had come to love and now she was truly alone. Ben wasn't sure he could have handle it at twenty-two let alone as a teenager.

The sound of shattering glass outside the temple made all the heads in line turn toward the towering windows. Daenerys, who'd been sitting hollowed eye, looked up at the sound. The chanting outside was growing louder. They were calling for the death of the last Targaryen. Shouting that she was a war criminal, a monster, an abomination. Event in Pentos she couldn't get away from the vitriol. A pair of septons appeared, shuttering up the windows and cutting off the last of the cool air.

Daenerys sighed from her perch at the head of line and nodded solemnly at the next group of mourners. It took twenty more minutes to reach the head of the line. The girl didn't even look up at them as their approach was announced.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan and Naboo. Daughter by adoption of Bail and Breha Organa of Alderaan. True born daughter of Padme Naberrie, the Queen Amidala of Naboo. Senator of Alderaanian. His Highness, Prince Ben Solo of Alderaan. Son of Princess Leia Organa and Han Solo."

Ben noted the way his father's name was put last, uncommon to put the father after the mother, but in the case of a low born expected. The Westerosi and Essosi had a very complicated title culture. From what Ben understood Daenerys' name was already very, very long when formally announced.

Leia stepped forward, bowing low. "My deepest condolences, your grace. While I cannot begin to presume I understand your loss, I have been in a situation similar to your own. Alderaanian remembers your brother Rhaegar fondly. Our people mourn with you."

At the mention of her brother Daenerys looked up, puzzled.

"You knew my brother?"

"I met him a few times, yes. During the celebrations of my son's birth he and his wife honored us with their presence. He played a song as a gift."

She smiled sadly. "Which song?"

"The Name Day Boy, your grace," Leia replied.

Daenerys nodded, her sadness seeming to abate slightly. Ben was in awe of his mother, that with a few kind words she could turn this poor girls heart from utter despair to even a glimmer of happiness.

"Thank you, your highness," Daenerys said.

It was their cue to leave, but Leia persisted. "If I may, perhaps not in the coming days or months, but a time may come when you need someone to talk to. I know a great deal about losing one's home and family and being forced to live in exile. My home and my heart are open should you ever need them."

The girl's whole face turned to stone as she peered down the dais at Leia. "And did you make this offer to my brother, Viserys?"

"I did, your grace." Leia bowed her head, sensing the tension. "He politely declined, not wishing to leave the system that had always been his home. I understand that you may feel the same. As I said to his highness, my door will remain open to you should you ever choose to avail yourself of it. I do not believe that a child should be held responsible for her father's choices."

Daenerys smiled, her lavender eyes glistening like precious gems.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Leia bowed again and Ben bowed with her.

* * *

**[PRESENT DAY]**

"Hello, Ben."

Ben shook his head. "I don't understand. What are you doing here, Dany?"

She chuckled. "I thought I was going on a date with you." She looked around, batting her silver eyelashes. "Am I in the wrong place?"

"No," he sighed, reaching out for her, "Of course not. I just… you shouldn't be here. If the King found out—"

Dany took his hand, squeezing it gently, her smile never faltering. "Westeros is embroiled in a civil war that has not yet reached Dorne. I've always had friends here. It's perfectly safe."

"It's not," he shook his head, still trying to wrap his brain around everything that was happening. "I have no idea what the hell is going on right now."

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her silver, braided tresses to his chest. "You can start by saying hello to an old friend."

Ben took her shoulders, pulling her away. "Hello. Now tell me what the hell is happening?" He kept replaying that night a week ago over and over in his head. The pictures he'd seen of the woman underneath that nearly sheer blue dress and couldn't seem to reconcile them with the wisp of a girl who'd shown up on his mother's doorstep months after the funeral.

She squirmed out of his grip, threading her arm through his and leading him to the table. Pillows and mats were clustered around a low table already laden with food and drink. Floor seating in the Dornish style.

"You haven't changed at all," Dany mused. "A girl shows even the smallest glimmer of interest in you and you turn into a mollusk."

"Mollusk?"

"You hide in your shell." She shoved him toward the floor. "What happened to the man who knew exactly where he wanted to put his hands?"

Heat rushed up to Ben's cheeks and he turned away. Dany took a seat, thankfully next to him and not on top of him. He wasn't sure what he'd do if she tried to mount him now. Ten minutes ago it was exactly what he'd been hoping for, now he couldn't even look her in the eye.

"Ben," she clicked her teeth. "By all the gods, look at me."

With great effort, he turned his attention to her. He skirt had ridden up above the knee and his eye was drawn to the familiar stretch of thigh he'd spent the last week staring at through his mobile.

"There he is," Dany sang. She took his hand. "Listen to me, we are going to have dinner. We are going to catch up. If by the end of this meal you're still uncomfortable then we go our separate ways and pretend nothing happened."

Ben nodded. He wasn't sure he could pretend _nothing_ happened, but he could certainly put the whole affair behind him.

"I hope that's not the case."

His eyes shot, searching her face. She took his hand and placed it on her bare knee.

"Dany," he breathed.

"I see the color rising up your neck," she leaned closer, mirth and hunger fighting for control in a sea of lavender. "But you're not the only one who's grown up. I still want to know if you taste as good as you look."

She was impossibly close. He could see all the fine white hairs on her skin, remembered the curl of her lips and the things he'd pictured them doing. It hadn't occurred to him then to kiss her, but it was all he could think of now. This wasn't the sad, scared little girl he remembered. She was strong, vital, every bit the queen she'd built herself to be since that day at the funeral. She was also the woman he'd been talking to daily for the last two weeks. Brilliant and filthy and everything he wanted.

He leaned closer, smelling the sweet scent of Dornish red on her breath. The inner rim of her lips tinted from the drink. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."

She scrunched her nose, edging closer. "Go with it."

He slid his hand along her thigh, taking a firm grip and sliding her closer until their lips met.

**Author's Note:**

> OK! As I mentioned, this went out without beta. If you'd like to beta, let me know. I'll fix my mistakes. Feel free to mention them if you see them. I won't get offended. Here are you helpful links to the background research I did for this fic. I left very obvious SW and GoT mentions off, but linked to the more subtle tidbits I used. 
> 
> A note on the universe, I basically set all of the GoT universe as a group of systems in the 'newly discovered' Martin Spryly (which I have yet to place) on the galaxy map. Westeros and Essos are systems of planets and moons. I may give a little more detail in later chapters but that's the rough sketch in my head for now. 
> 
> Have some links: 
> 
> * [MicroData Technologies](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/MicroData_Technologies) is the name of the Legacies company that makes the [Pocket Secretary](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Pocket_Secretary) and [Personal datapad assistant](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Personal_datapad_assistant). Basically I needed a SW cell phone, so I invented one.  
> * In case you don't know who she is, [Bazine Netal](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Bazine_Netal) is a TFA character from [Chaaktil](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Chaaktil).  
> * My favorite Alderaanian wine to drop into stories, [Toniray](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Toniray)  
> * I needed a random royal family to give Ben a referral to the dating service so I used [Monthan prince of Shu-Torun](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Monthan).  
> *Dany quotes the song _[The Dornishman's Wife](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/The_Dornishman%27s_Wife)_ which we get to enjoy Bron signing in the series.  
> * Another bit of the Legacies universe that I love, _[The Dha Werda Verda](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Dha_Werda_Verda)_ is one of the sacrifices made to the new canon, but part of the rich SW history that I love so much.  
> * Dany is wearing [this dress](https://www.wsdear.com/game-of-thrones-daenerys-targaryen-cosplay-blue-chiffon-dress.html), in case you were wondering.  
> * Senator [Nedea Tural](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Nadea_Tural) of [Thrad](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Thradian).  
> * Mon Mothma's desire for demilitarization is courtesy of the [Aftermath](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Aftermath) series by Chuck Wendig.  
> * _'Tubi daor'_ means _'not today'_ in [High Valyrian](https://gameofthrones.fandom.com/wiki/High_Valyrian) (which is what you say to the god of death). Here are some other [words and phrases](http://www.makinggameofthrones.com/production-diary/2014/5/8/high-valyrian-101-learn-and-pronounce-common-phrases) if you wanted.  
> * Gratuitous (and completely unnecessary) nod to [Adam Driver's Breitling ad](https://youtu.be/YuGVbPEqB7Y). This is a link to the YouTube video, btw.  
> * _[The Glory of Volantis](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/The_Glory_of_Volantis)_ is a canon story about one of the pre-Targaryen Kings of Casterly Rock, [Tommin II](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Tommen_II_Lannister), and his journey to Volantis in search of… you read the fic, you know what it's about.  
> * In choosing a setting for the story I originally thought to place it in a single 'world' that blended SW and GoT. As it progressed I warmed to the idea that I could make the GoT universe fit into the SW galaxy. That lead to choosing a location for this chapter to take place. I originally thought Coruscant, but changed my mind right at the end. By setting it on Dorne (a planet unto itself) I could include the references to [the Tower of Joy](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Tower_of_joy) and [The Red Mountains](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Red_Mountains). I accidentally discovered the location of [The Shadow City](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Sunspear#Shadow_city) while doing the research and I figured, kriff it, why not? It's worldbuilding right?  
> * This isn't exactly a link, I just have a headcanon that Ben like's spicy food (it's in every fic I write).


End file.
